Doomed
by YouNMEbabyxD
Summary: Cursed with a fondness for the gorgeous and gifted, Chloe attempts to go the distance to save Davis.
1. Going Nowhere

**Doomed**

**Disclaimer:** Shucks…

**Inspiration:** "I'm Outta Time" by Oasis, "Romeo and Juliet" The Killers (Dire Straits cover)

**Pairing: **Chloe/Davis implied.

**Storyline: **Cursed with a fondness for the gorgeous and gifted, Chloe attempts to go the distance to save Davis.

**A/N:** Slight AU, takes place late season 8. LOVED this season, but wanted badly to rewrite a wonderful story for Chloe and Davis. I also took a stab at writing it in first-person, which was easier than I thought it would be :] I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter One: Going Nowhere**

The solution was obvious. Or I was delusional.

Easily won over by smoldering warm eyes that melted my heart in my chest, ridding me of that rhythmic beating that signified the countdown 'til Doomsday. It was an awful burden to be solely aware of, save Clark and the JLA, and made me sometimes thrive with the curse for bending over backwards for handsome fellows who, for a reason I wish I knew, opt to confide in me.

I could not escape the curse of being a girl: fool for the tall, dark, and otherworldly handsome.

And I was drawing towards the conclusion, that being smart paid off a lot more than playing dumb. The old saying "Guys don't make passes, at Girls who wear glasses" had always rubbed me the wrong way. However, after living in Smallville, I learned that stereotype was as factual as Humpty Dumpty, and how all the King's horses and all the King's men had failed to put him back together again.

I never had to dumb myself down, to win the attention of the otherworldly Gods I speak of-my intelligence, exhibited through years of gold stars earned in K-12, were no longer silly but great, twinkling starlight that guided lost, and gorgeous, souls to me faster than blinking neon lights beckoning the perverted.

First, Clark Kent.

My first crush, not my first kiss, or other unmentionable partner in acts that cause me to blush even in private thought…

Ridiculously cute, but strong, farm boy who happens to be my best friend.

His great love, Lana Lang, came close to stealing the Torch-no pun intended, but my shopping buddy was also a spineless fool for the opposite sex. I hate considering the fact that her ex-husband Lex Luthor could be the reason for the permanent wedge between us, but, I can't find any other explanation as to 'why'.

The second intrusive THIEF who invades my thoughts and steals the healthy pace of my heart?

Davis Bloome.

Hearing his name is similar to hearing there is a 70 percent chance it will rain, hail, and storm fiercely on the day you don't want it.

But, boy, is he cute. Cuter than Clark….almost.

Clark is like a sweltering hot day that you can't escape because his country shack doesn't have air conditioning… Davis is… rain.

I love seizing the opportunity to head down to Crater Lake to soak up the sun, maybe take a dip in warm waters.

I also love cozying up at home with a good book on a rainy day, let the moisture outside intensify the scents outside, making everything smell clean, and refreshing. Even my car benefits from the action, I drive a shiny clean car the next day.

Lately, Clark's warmth had begun to burn me.

I haven't grown annoyed with his company, I love the guy, but much like Lex in the picture with Clark and Lana, my "friendship" with Davis had begun to broil Clark overwhelmingly hot.

My great sun can't shine through with the rain clouds screening him from me.

The distance between Clark and me could rival the earth's length from the sun.

Unaware of Davis's true identity, honesty, I'm still a bit fuzzy on the subject myself…me not being Kryptonian and everything…I do remember little from being possessed by Fine, Clark disregarded our "friendship" to do his own thing in Metropolis, but eventually, the chase for his Planet stories had begun to tail Davis's own personal demons.

Pleading with Davis to leave the city and stay with me in Smallville while we try to sort it all out was really a favor to Clark.

With so much on his plate, I didn't want to spring this all on him now, especially when he'd come to me for help in the first place. Which is what I'm doing, fighting the odds of "the monster in my basement will kill me" for the sake of Clark's sanity, and more importantly his life…it's a selfish act really, I can't go on living, and fighting, without him.

"Do I remind you of Clark?"

Davis's inquisition startles me, but not really…I remember wondering about a resemblance once before.

To prevent myself from blushing, the only resemblance I can remember making was that they both were capable of making me swoon and clutch the side of my warming face with lovesickness, and could quite possibly, make me drool in awe if they really tried to dazzle me with their alien good looks, I smirk and tell him, "Were you raised in a barn too?"

Davis smiles, his chuckle stifling through his perfect downturned nose as he looks up at me through his thick brow and says, "I hear the Kent's were lovely. No, what I meant was….the hiding, all the secrecy, the big alien mystery…"

My breathing becomes shallow, and too loud in my nasal passage as I shiver at Davis approaching me, towering high above me in a way that I never noticed or feared in Clark-he has a softness and warmth to him that makes his large build more protective puppy-like than Davis's, I praise the God's that he seems to enjoy my company too much to destroy me as we both know he is more than capable of doing.

Davis shrugs, unaware of the exhilaration and fear overworking my composure due to his closeness.

"It's just something I imagine you having to put up with… being friends with Clark growing up."

The hint of jealousy in his voice constricts me like a silky, warm material more tantalizing than lying naked and restful in thousand count sheets but also stabs me like a finding a shard of glass in that tangle of plush; I don't like to think of Davis jealous. Though it assures me he likes me, likes me enough to trust me with his life, his utmost secrets, it also scares me that his temper could erupt any second and he'd harm those close to me…I wasn't afraid of death anymore. But I had to remind myself I was doing this for Clark, my own harm would pain him too.

"Clark never trusted me with his secret… at first, anyway. Initially, I found out on my own."

"Naughty Clark."

My imagination is given a rest, the devilishly tasty grin that coats Davis's full lips isn't imaginary, and the nearness he fails to notice is on purpose.

I smile and look down, praying to the Gods above that the blood pooling the chambers of my cheeks drain and fail to burn a bright red. My face feels hot.

"I'm not going to lie. He hurt me, by keeping THAT from me. But…now, I get why he did it."

Looking up, my smile fails to diminish and only intensifies as I find myself gazing into a side to Davis I'd fight the impossible to keep. Shrugging, I say, "He thought he was protecting me."

"You smile at that?" Davis questions, my smile contagious.

Nodding, I smile again. "Yeah, I do. It's funny really. I'm the one protecting him now."

Careful with my words, I don't want to make Davis jealous. I look down, pretending to admire his broad shoulders that I want desperately to reach out and take a hold of, and say, "Does it bother you that I think the very same about you?"

Indulging him with another of my smiles, I look back up at him for a response.

He laughs this time. "No, it humors me."

I laugh too. "Yeah, I get that." It is rather hilarious that I should be protecting this man the size of a bear; a rather cuddly bear.

While admiring his unusual build, Davis was not the kind to spend his days in a gym, because of me, the poor guy now spent his days locked up in the basement, I ask, "Davis, can I ask you something?"

"Does it have anything to do with how much I bench?" Davis asked with a chuckle, not at all embarrassed by my straying eyes.

I smile, it is weak with the wretchedness of my next inquisition.

"Davis…If I had been ignorant of your origin, would you have shared with me your inner demons as well?"

My voice is very weak, fatigued not by my miserable day at the Isis Foundation, but my tiring part on the matter. Harboring secrets greater than the poorly anticipated contents of Al Capone's vault was more tolling than trying to catch an elephant with a butterfly net. A vacation, a well deserved holiday, was what I needed, and I hoped to get it.

Davis smiled, just briefly, and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Was I right?

"Okay, I admit that your history with the extraterrestrial did help with the 'coming clean', but, I also have to tell you-" His eyes found mine. The tips of his toes clumsily touched mine. His secret was mine. "-I'd like to believe that, given different circumstances, and the same Chloe," His smile was mine. "-eventually, I would have owned up to my alien past. All in good time."

My smile pulled boldly across my mouth, and I prayed, his hearing was only shy, and not intrusive (like Clark's), to spare Davis the embarrassing sprint my heart was running.

"That's comforting to know."

Davis chuckled and shrugged, "I would throw in a few good fights and maybe a fabricated inheritance into the story, but I would have told you."

I chuckled.

"And I have to tell you, Davis…" I sighed, without the confidence I had slowly obtained descending the two flights of stairs from my apartment above the Talon to come down and visit him. "As much as I enjoy your company, and love that you allow me to help, I don't think this is working."

His frown made me frown.

"What do you mean?" The sudden edge my words have aroused in him was unnerving.

"Relax, Big Guy. What I meant was….the hiding, the secrets-which, by the way, will only backfire on us, I'd rather skedaddle before it all accumulates and becomes too much for us to carry. Which would also apply to what I'm trying to suggest as Plan B."

Davis folded his arms and continued to listen to my suggestion, the heavy brow framing his dark brown eyes made me become aware of the lump suddenly itching in my throat.

"Is any of this making sense?" I asked, pressing my finger tips together in your typical 'scheming' manner, and waited warily for his response.

Davis released a great breath that in a fraction of a second warmed my belly beneath the thin night tank I was wearing. I wish he were closer, my bare shoulders could have really used the warming up.

"I'm not following… Chloe, is everything OK??"

I forced a slight smile and approached him. Arching my feet, I raised my hands high to catch him by his shoulders reassuringly and say, "Everything's fine, Davis. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm more worried for you." He told me, the concern in his voice reaching his brown eyes-tonight I will imagine rolling over one day, waking from a night's rest and gazing into them… I wonder if the morning light makes them syrupy.

"And I'm going to argue the same thing. Look, Davis. We can't hide out here forever. Smallville by reputation is….miniscule, and I'm afraid that eventually Clark and people less kind and understanding than Clark will find you. I know we've been trying your to keep your inner… 'demon' leashed and out of trouble, but I'm afraid our home remedy is no longer working."

"I've been good. You've been good. Chloe, you alone have been keeping me from exploding, into a monster I search the dark corners for at night only to come to the frightening realization that he is in bed with me. I don't like the way you're talking… It's almost like… You're giving up."

He seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. I didn't want that. He didn't want that. There was dark laughter that existed only in our minds that mocked our struggle and I knew it was the monster poor Davis cowered from.

Taking advantage of his agonizing slouch forward, I leapt up once to noose my arms around his neck, forcing him to look at me.

"Davis, DAVIS. I'm sorry. You don't understand, you don't get it at all. My company is only a temporary fix. You and Clark will live forever, and I will.." I stopped myself from throwing the word 'die' at him, I knew that would only upset him further. I chuckled sadly, "I will try with all my heart to stay the path with you-"

He suddenly snaked his large and pale hands up to mine, wrapping one large hand around both of mine fastened behind his neck. It hurt, but it hurt more to look into his eyes and see how much…I believe, he loved me.

"-And I will do everything in my power to keep you here, with me."

"I know you will." I said, fighting the lump in my throat and the moisture escaping my tear ducts. "But I'm more interested, in finding your cure. And I'm afraid…it isn't here. I'm afraid of, sticking around long enough for our trouble to catch up with us. I say, we leave town. For how long??? I don't care. As much as I know you will argue, that my company will compromise this venture for your true cure, I am nothing more than flesh and bone, and a heck of a lot of meteor infected interaction to know that there is more to this than Smallville or meteor rock. It can't hurt to try." I plead.

Gazing down at me like the very last grains in his hourglass were already tumbling towards the center, he says, "And if it isn't out there?"

"You'll still have me." I promise, only through my deceiving smile, the unnaturalness of it giving away the ounce of doubt keeping me weighted to Smallville. I have Davis with me now, and I'm confident he can move mountains, and come away with me from this place.

**_(to be continued?)_**


	2. Living Nightmare

**Doomed**

**Disclaimer: **I only WANT to own this.

**Inspiration: **"Hotel California" by Eagles, "Decode" by Paramore, "Carbon Monoxide" by Regina Spektor, "Mad World" by Gary Jules, "Goodnight, Travel Well" by The Killers, "Down Boy" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, "Let Me Sign" by Robert Pattison, "I've Got Friends" by Manchester Orchestra, "Dreamworld" by Robin Thicke, "Fly Away" by Poe, "Field Below" by Regina Spektor

**Pairing: **Chloe/Davis implied.

**Storyline: **Cursed with a fondness for the gorgeous and gifted, Chloe attempts to go the distance to save Davis.

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter One!!!!!

**Chapter Two: Living Nightmare**

I'm asleep. I'm hot.

I gasp, the sharp intake of air prompting me from my sleep. It's painful.

Cradling my chest to salvage myself from the sting and pure alarm of my current predicament, my eyes flush open as I try to realize where I am, and what has happened.

Davis?!

I cough. My voice is weak from sleep and cracks with fright, leaving me inaudible in my struggles.

Fighting the bed comforter that has been drawn up to my neck, I kick until my legs are free before jumping to my feet.

Stumbling around a vast room with white décor, I want to scream out "Davis!" - but can't.

Though I have just climbed out of a bed seven times my size, made with plush white bedding, I feel as if I've just run a marathon.

My head. It hurts. I know I am only exaggerating, but it swells and constricts, threatening to squeeze the jelly from my eyes. My lungs are dry and cracked. I'm wheezing.

The light pains my eyes, but I can see. I have to see. Where is Davis??

The vast white room is pale with blue, like the windows towards the narrow end are paned with aquamarine.

Desperate to know… where I am, where Davis was, anything, I run towards them.

My bare feet are sticky with sweat as I run across the white carpeted floor. After I had been out, for how long? I wish I knew, I nearly fall into the window but throw myself against it, anyway.

Slick with sweat, my wet palms slid across the glass, but I fail to fall over.

Peering outside, I feel like I haven't waken at all. Instead, it feels like I'm living a nightmare.

The sun, and the moon were absent from the pale blue sky. Nothing but an endless field of auburn brown grass, that look more like waist-high twigs protruding from the beige sand, waves back at me. Beyond them, a dark soapy ocean washes away the rest of the earth. If it weren't for the pane of glass separating me from the outside, my fever would have been consoled by the cold ruthless winds that throw them.

"Chloe?"

Gasping again, I turn around hoping to see…

"Oliver…?" I croak. The surprise of his visit only apparent in my eyes. Under normal circumstances, I would have rushed up to him and threw my arms around his neck. Now, I was saving that little effort I had left for Davis. I would see him again.

"It's good to see you're up. Come away from the window." He suggests, the delicate smile he wears almost convincing, but…where were we? Where was Davis? How did I get here? I still had questions that needed answering. And a handsome Kryptonian back at my side.

"Oliver, how-?" Lacking the effort to interrogate him, he interrupts me.

"You don't look so well. Come on." He twirls with his hand for me to join him near bed. "You should be resting."

"I don't feel like it." My voice finally developed edge. "Thank you very much."

"Chloe…" Oliver crooned, looking handsome in his dark purple pinstripe button down shirt and black slacks. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sick."

Unable to fight the utter terrible feeling that I could feel from the tip of my sweltering hot head to the tips of my sweating toes, my eyes spill over with tears as I stand with my back against the cool pane of the window wall.

Feeling twice as horrible now, I didn't want to let Oliver see me cry, especially after all the fighting we have been doing lately, I didn't want him to view me as weak, I sob once.

Oliver fails to sympathize with ugly, crying me, and says, "You put up quite a fight, little lady. I'm afraid we had to tranquilize you twice."

"How dare you."

It wasn't strong enough. The pitiful, embarrassing murmur that I had retaliated with hadn't even begun to point out my anger.

I try again: "HOW DARE YOU."

The pain is too much. It seems almost too easy now to give up. Mind my own business, cut my ties to Oliver, the JLA, to Davis. Poor Davis. And go back to my normal, comfortable life as Chloe Sullivan.

Maybe I'm not cut out to be Watchtower anymore.

The thought causes me to choke up.

Was I there? Was anything there?

Life before the alien cover up, outside of the band of 'special' people, without Clark or Davis or the patients of the Isis Foundation there to fill up my agenda, what lied unfinished and neglected waiting for me? What had I put on hold? What have I sacrificed?

Losing my journalistic dream because of Lex was no crying shame; I no longer wrote about or recorded big stories; I'm living them. Breathing, aching, running with truths and lies that would rock the world if spilled from my lips.

Moisture irritates my eyes. As sole bearer of these stories, my own very world has been shaken beyond repair, but damn it, it was worth it. I love Clark. And I love Davis. So much.

It's stupid, it's totally ridiculous, to be in love with your best friend's presumed assassin.

But as hard as I try, to force the likely guy for me, Jimmy, into my thoughts, all reflections of him dim and instead, funny enough, stupid things, that I love, and miss, about Davis cloud me from everything else, all reasonable thought is lost.

"Chloe, I'm sorry…"

He lifts his hand up like he wants to place it comfortingly on my shoulder, despite the distance between us. Much like the remoteness I feel from Clark, now Oliver too feels worlds away from me.

"Don't," I urge him. If an apology for sedating me and removing me from Davis would voice from his lips, I'd kill him. If I couldn't claw at the agony that had hollowed me out, I'd tear him to shreds; how could he do this to me?

He offers me a weak, "nice" smile and gives up, raising his hands in surrender before dropping them back to his sides.

Watching him carefully, I'm half expecting him to pull a dagger from the waistband of his trousers and stab me in the back properly, I ask the inevitable: "Where's Davis?"

"Chloe, you know I can't tell you that." GOD, I hate his voice…he talks as if he's correcting a small child.

"You can't?" I barely manage to repeat. Speaking from my diaphragm now, I add. "Or you won't?"

He looks right past it.

"Chloe. Don't be stupid."

"Where am I?" I fume miserably, rolling my eyes around the ceiling as if the answer were there.

"Safe." Is all he will tell me.

"Damn it, Oliver!"

Stumbling away from the window, I storm past him and the bed that had imprisoned me for so long, and venture out the way he had came in.

"Chloe, you're weak!" He tells me. I ignore him.

"And you're the devil!" I scream back.

He follows me out onto a balcony that overlooks another room below. Beyond that, another window wall stares back at us. I can feel the color in my eyes ignite as I stare into the sapphire sky that dominates the view and start clutching at the railing to a set of stairs in the center of the walkway.

"Chloe, you'll fall!"

He's angry with me now.

"GOOD." I scream back.

Carefully lowering one foot before the other, I attempt to climb down the staircase with Oliver hot on my heels.

"Which is closer?? Smallville Medical Center or Metropolis General???"

Dodging my inquisition, he seizes me by the waist and hoists me up into his arms.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" I scream, pounding on his chest, I expect him to carry me back upstairs.

Instead, he places me back on my feet at the foot of the stairs.

Sighing out, I look up at him and say, "Thank you."

"You're welcome-"

"I'm still going to kick your butt someday."

"That's fine." He humors me, his demeanor as light as air, which is surprising given the circumstances.

"THAT'S a promise." I correct him boldly, turning my back on him to keep on walking towards the glass wall, I hope there's a door there.

Watching me feebly "walk" towards the front of the tall, narrow house, which was more like…stumbling with grace, I hear him sigh and say, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Davis, he needs me. No," I feel so weak, "-no more games, Oliver."

"I could say the same to you."

"I WAS HELPING HIM." I bark, turning my back on the glass wall that was no just a few bitsy steps away.

"You were running away!"

"YOU TOOK ME AWAY!" I spat back.

"I was SAVING you, Chloe." He growled back, inching his face towards mine.

"What about Davis, huh? WHO will save HIM?!" I reply, failing to cower under his attempt at scaring me.

"What? You??" Oliver asked with the kind of mocking smirk on his face that made me wish Davis were here all the more.

"SAY what you want, OLLIE. My method would have been a HELL of a lot more effective than your heartless tactics. How Tess Mercer can you get!?"

"What's that supposed to mean..?" He backed off.

I rolled my eyes, and gave up on escaping. The opportunity to grill Oliver on his alliance with Tess Mercer was right in front of me, and heart pumping with drugs or not, I was going to seize it!

"Tess Mercer, Oliver, you're former squeeze." I teased, narrowing my eyes at the confrontation I had incited.

"What about her?" Oliver shrugged innocently.

"She's…she's…SHE'S EVIL. Hello!! Don't tell me you wouldn't have done this if it wasn't suggested by her. Oliver, this isn't you. This entire scheme REEKS of Tess Mercer."

"Give me some credit." He argued.

"If Davis is the monster you claim he is, then that woman is without a doubt the Devil!" I pointed out, jabbing the tip of my index finger to the sky.

"You don't even know her!" Oliver defended.

"I don't WANT to know her."

"Look, don't switch this around on me. Chloe, Davis is dangerous." He told me firmly, stepping forward to close the distance between us. I shuddered as he attempted to place his hands on my shoulders, which I now realized were bare. Someone had stripped me of my clothes and dressed me instead in a sort of white night gown.

"You're sick!"

"You're delusional. Please, let me help you back up to bed."

"No." I fussed, pulling away from his open arms.

"For God's sake, Chloe. Help me out here. I THOUGHT I was doing you a favor!"

"You owe me no favors." I scolded him. "And after this??"

The fire that burned inside of me, roaring more fiery than the ache of illness that resulted from being sedated and left for God knows how long, kept me motivated. "You'll be lucky to get a passing glance out of me. YOU HEAR ME! Oliver, we're over. I WILL HAVE NO-" I was surprised to find I was sobbing, "-I will have nothing to do with you, or your friends, anymore!"

Startled by my sudden burst into hysteria, Oliver's face twisted in agony as he pleaded with me, "Chloe, don't overreact."

Stomping my feet, which I knew was childish, but damn it, I couldn't help myself… I cried, "I HAVE EVERY REASON, Ollie."

Ashamed, Oliver tried to approach me again, but gave up.

"Look, Chloe. I'll apologize a million times over again, but I can't…you hear me, I can't take you back."

"Why not?" My voice was tiny with anticipation. Even if I could con him into taking me back, what would I return to? Where was Davis? And now that I think of it, WHERE WAS CLARK? HOW could he allow Oliver/Green Arrow to do this to me???

Oliver said nothing.

Clearing my throat, I ask him again. "Why not??"

His silence is unnerving. I fear the worst.

Cupping my mouth, I realize how much I am sweating. I no longer am bothered by the fever I am running, now….I'm only worried about one thing.

"Is he alright?!" I ask again.

"Ollie." My voice is apologetic, I'd surrender myself over to him as Tess and his servant if it would get his mouth moving to forfeit me the answers I am demanding. "Is he OK??"

"I won't take you back." He tells me. Bastard…

"I won't stay here." I promise him.

"I don't expect you to."

With that, he walks past me, towards the door I had been fighting to get to since waking from that nightmare slumber.

"Where are you going??? Wait, OLLIE. Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

He laughs.

"I'll send Clark for you when…" His words trail off before he spins around to face me. "After I've taken care of things."

Stomping after him, I reach out and shove him towards the direction he was heading - I can barely rock him on his feet. Ugh…

"By that, you had BETTER mean curing Davis!"

"I'd sooner treat him to French tips." Oliver remarks with a twitch of his hand, his voice oily with sarcasm. Turning away from me, he continues for the door.

Stalking after him, I notice the door to the hideaway house is also made of glass. If I weren't there to watch Oliver skillfully press it open, I'd never find it in my current state.

"Oliver."

He stops. While holding the door open, I can hear something big, and loud outside. Like wings beating on air, whatever it was, it was getting closer. It's then I notice that outside of the house there is nothing more than more of those strange twigs sticking out of the sand. By the door, there is a wooden board path leading towards a large black square in the distance, that I'm guessing is a helicopter landing site.

The chopper isn't here now, but it nears. Another of Oliver's smart ideas…if he had flown the helicopter here himself, I'd have fought him unconscious and used it to get back to Davis.

"Chloe?" He asks, studying my face as I search the sky for the helicopter.

Returning my eyes to his own, I ask him to take me with him.

As an answer, he says nothing and goes through the door.

"OLIVER."

"CHLOE, NO." Swinging around to tell me off, his temper this time puts me in my place. Though his harsh tone is only so I will hear him over the propellers of the incoming helicopter, I wish he would treat me like something fragile again.

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU'LL EVER FORGIVE ME. HELL, I DON'T EVEN CARE IF YOU'LL EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN. ALL I CARE ABOUT IS YOU. ALL EVERYONE EVER CARES ABOUT IS YOU. AND I'M GOING TO GIVE THEM THEIR SANITY BY KEEPING YOU SAFE. IF THAT MEANS KEEPING YOU STRANDED HERE, DON'T THINK I WON'T DO IT."

"HOW DARE YOU! DID YOU NOT HEAR MY WITHDRAW IN THERE!" I stabbed the interior of the house with my arm as I retaliated, I wasn't going to be left without a fight - I now believe I put up a bigger fight than Davis when he and the rest of the JLA kidnapped me.

"My WELL-BEING is no longer a concern of YOURS or ANYONE ELSES. I QUIT! I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. YOU TAKE ME BACK!!!!!!!!!" I cried, feeling like I was a vital organ of Davis's and he'd perish without me.

Ignoring me, Oliver turns to meet his helicopter again.

Reaching out, I grab hold of his elbow and tug him back.

"OLIVER. YOU NEED ME. HE NEEDS ME. YOU'LL ALL DIE WITHOUT ME THERE."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Oliver, you don't understand." I was desperate now, and was not going to give him his arm back.

"No, CHLOE." Jerking his arm away, I lost my balance and fell to the sand at the boardwalks side.

Failing to help me up, he turns to look down at me and says, "YOU don't understand. HE'S dangerous!"

"Not while I'm around him, he's not." Tears were streaming down my face, I could taste them at the corners of my mouth but I didn't care. I had to get back to Davis.

"Just take me back." I begged.

Oliver rolls his eyes away from me. "I love you, Chloe. But I'm not going to risk the lives of others over some little crush."

The helicopter was finally here.

It's propellers blew my tearful eyes dry and I struggled to watch Oliver leave me.

**(I had so much fun writing this lol)**


	3. Break And Crush

**Break And Crush**

**Disclaimer: **I want Davis Bloome. Ownership would be incest. I'm GLAD I don't own this.

**Inspiration: **"Sweet Dreams" by Beyonce

**Pairing: **Chloe/Davis implied.

**Storyline: **Cursed with a fondness for the gorgeous and gifted, Chloe attempts to go the distance to save Davis.

**A/N**: I ADORE the peeps that reviewed the last chapter. Sorry this update is short. I didn't want to make you all wait too long.

**Chapter Three: Break And Crush**

This was my ideal getaway, robbed clean of all that made it 'ideal'.

The house was lovely.

I had never been a white picket fence kind of girl, but if I really considered the inevitable fate of 'settling down', the home my future husband and I would settle down in… would look exactly like THIS.

Modern from the blue window walls to the absence of a steeple roof, this entire place…. Along the beach of an ocean I couldn't recognize, was a far cry from Smallville.

The country warmth that I had grown to love, had been reversed inside and out all around me.

The warm, nurturing Kansas winds were replaced with a cold stream of salty air. Kansas winds embraced you. These winds, fondled you with cold, rude hands.

Soft golden fields, patched with green grass had dried out, leaving me wandering around in uneven mounds of scratchy sand.

My night gown frequently caught on the ugly brown twigs jutting out from the sand. I woke with nothing but inner turmoil, now my calves bear raw wounds.

They were nothing to cry over, I had a bigger wound that offered me a lot of practice.

I was unbearably lonely. I remembered the Kansas birds singing happily through the window of my apartment above the Talon, or the people living, it didn't matter in what condition, all around me in Metropolis. Reminding me, I didn't have to mope about, I could have it worse.

Now what?

The winds I ignored. And the ocean, it ignored me.

I wandered the beach, eager for a distraction. But found, the waters hardly noticed I was there. It was like I had entered a world already in progress. Despite the isolation of this place, there was no room for me here. I disturbed the soft ocean noises with my sobbing.

I considered leaving it all, traveling away from the waters, but….I was certain an entire day had gone by. It would be night soon, and how far was I from home?

Standing towards the side of the home facing away from the waters, I considered leaving the property, but thought again…how soon until Oliver would send Clark? Would I need him?

If I left this place, what dangers would I encounter out there on my own? In the wilderness, was I truly safe?

The question prompted the idea of wolves and boogeymen in my head. I talked myself into staying put.

If I couldn't ward off my own friends, how was I to defend myself from hungry wolves?

The pale blue sky, now with accommodating sun, began to bruise with nightfall.

Ears twitching for the tiniest of sounds to clue me in on my fate, I kept my eyes on the home's surroundings and slowly crept back into the safety of the house.

After shoving an armchair in front of the door I had followed Oliver out of, I sprinted for the back of the house in search of another entrance, and barricaded that too.

As darkness claimed the ocean, the sand, and now the sky, I watched fearfully from the house, dreading the idea of turning on even a single lamp.

All alone in this wilderness, a little light would shine broadly in the distance, beckoning strangers to my whereabouts.

Hoping, praying, fantasizing Davis's escape from Green Arrow to come to my aid made me eager to illuminate the glass house, but…if the lights would signal Clark? I didn't want anything to do with him.

First Clark, now Oliver. I was losing friends and to make matters worse, they were siding against me.

I didn't understand it.

I only feel this way for Davis because of Clark.

I love Clark, and remember, now I cringe, adoring the guy. But after the events of our lives, I now realize…he isn't meant for me. I am destined for more.

Oliver was an idiot. What did he know?

Stupid little crush? HA!

Once Clark finally gets here and I explain to him what Oliver has done, everything from sedating me TWICE to undressing me, he'll give him a little crush!

What crushed me was the truth to his words.

By offering Davis my aid, my home, my compromise in honesty, my life….I had unknowingly displayed my grotesque affection.

Though Davis has told me time and time again, that he was only ever 'whole' when he was with me, not once have I recalled him doing something selfless for me.

Was I the one with the crush? Or was it a contagious ache that claimed Davis and I both? I sigh.

No, I wasn't experiencing something elementary. Even antagonizing thoughts from Oliver failed to pry me away from sweet Davis. But, would my prior alliance with Oliver and Clark turn Davis away from me?

Though I wanted nothing more than a set of wheels, to get back to Smallville and track Oliver down with my car, ramming him with it in the process, his goodbye words had truth to them. And those poisonous words began to cramp my stomach like a contagious bug.

What was keeping Davis in Oliver's possession this long? Surely he had asked about me, my whereabouts, my condition, had been infuriated by his captor's response and sprung into the Mr. Hyde I was strangely capable of wrestling out of existence. Without me there, what else could have happened? Where was Davis really? Why was it taking Green Arrow this long to 'take care of him'?

GOD!

I clutch the startled heart in my breast and leap back from the glass pane separating me from the darkness outside. I HATE WHEN HE DOES THAT.

Clark's race to see me was about as comforting as losing a flailing limb to a fast, hard shark.

Smiling to comfort me, I hate his sweet face, I'm especially angry with him because he's too pretty to harm but I really want to sink my fist into that perfect face for scaring me like that, he points to the white armchair barricading the door.

Groaning out in frustration, I shake my head angrily and tug it away.

Slipping through the door before I could fully replace the chair, he rounds the heavy structure in a millisecond and embraces me the way I've been dying to be touched; seizing me fully around the waist to lift me up in his arms and press me to his chest like I'm a limp limbed teddy bear, the point of my chin fails to sink into his strong shoulder and my face is forced back, giving me a glimpse of the high ceiling - "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I had no idea-I'm glad you're alright." - The angle of my head helps me drink back the blissful tears that fall past my lash line.

It feels so good to have Clark back again. He's the strength I have been trying to build all day.

"I'm so glad you're here, Clark." I cry.

Releasing me slowly, like my appendages would fall from my body if he didn't, Clark holds me by my shoulders and peers into my face in a way that shames me far worse than the act of lying and hiding from him, which is what I fear he will read plain in my guilty, sad, pathetic expression.

"Are you hurt?"

I roll my eyes as he presses a warm palm to my forehead to check my temperature.

"I'm a wreck." I admit, feeling eventually that I've nothing to lose. Friends, family, great, beautiful, sweet, sweet love, all scattered and tattered and left in ruin; I had a lot of work to do, the thought of it made me want to throw my arms over my head and sob myself into an empty, submissive state.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. This is my own fault. I wasn't very punctual with Oliver when I told him to butt out, but this time, I'm prepared to give him a blow by blow example."

"You don't look so good." Clark means it.

"Yeah, well, that's because I've downloaded and installed Chloe's 'bloody confrontation' package while you were away. Clark, don't try the free trial."

"You're upset…"

"Damn straight!"

"What have you got to be upset about, Chloe?! Oliver rescued you. I know this place isn't exactly a resort, but it serves it's purpose."

"Like what???? What good could possibly come from leaving me in some uncharted hell hole?!?"

"Doomsday was incapable of finding you for one. You gotta give it to Oliver, even I had trouble finding this place. I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner."

"Oh, I will give it to Oliver alright! Right in his pucker!"

"Chloe, the guy saved your life…."

"Is that what he's taking credit for?" I tut. "The man kidnaps me, completely discredits me for something I've been working on for a very long time now, and leaves me like a leper here on this slice of… where in God's Hell are we??"

I sidestep Clark and peer into the darkness that surrounds the glass house. My eyes are adjusted to the night and yet the same old beach setting greets me.

"A small island just between North America and the United Kingdom, give or take a few hundred miles."

"Nice."

"You really have nothing to worry about. You're the only inhabitant on this island."

"I didn't ask for this."

"We're your friends, Chloe. Though I would not have gone to these lengths to protect you, I'd like to think I'd have done the same thing."

"What do you mean?" I turn away from the window, having no interest in whatever island Oliver had chosen for me and stare into Clark's jargon instead. Did he know about Davis and Doomsday?

"It's obvious Doomsday is hunting you. What Oliver did was smart."

"Ha!" I smirk, crossing my arms across my chest, I feel too bare in this nightgown and realize just now that with Clark standing there, in his boots, jeans, and blue t-shirt, red coat combo, I'm under dressed. "-And Oliver says I'm the one with the crush."

Clark rolls his eyes.

"What Oliver did was sick! I know I'm only your best friend here Clark, but I'd like some compensation for the role. You're going to get me the heck out of here and holds hands with me while I ambush the special Ops team Oliver orders around like his personal army."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Chloe."

"You won't even kick Oliver's butt for doing this to me? Really?" I ask Clark incredulously.

"What he did is reversible. I'd love to have you back, Chloe. But-"

"THE MAN STRIPPED ME OF MY CLOTHES, and dressed me in this!" I accused, lifting a hand to pull at the shoulder strap of my white night gown.

Clark sighs.

"Look, there's gotta be a good explanation for why he did this."

"Then tell me."

"Oh, I know. If Doomsday should try to find you, he'd use your scent to get here. And without personal effects, he'd be-"

"Really?" I ask, astounded by the ability Clark spoke of. My interruption wasn't even sarcastic, I was now curious as to the 'abilities' Davis had that Clark didn't.

"See, Oliver was only looking out from you."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled miserably, walking past Clark to find some good travel clothes. I had been so worried about how long I would be staying here that it never occurred to me to snoop around. "I'll give him something to look out for."

I began to climb the stairs, wondering if there was a wardrobe or dresser in the bedroom I had previous slept in.

"Where you going?" Clark asks.

"To hang myself. I've really missed you guys. You'd better stay close, I don't think I could take you jetting off again." I smirk and then turn to watch Clark quickly climb the steps behind me.

After I reach the top landing, I grin and say, "What if I told you Oliver shot me TWICE with a tranquilizer gun? Like some big, dumb, elephant. THE GUY SHOOTS ME."

Clark's silence as he follows me into the bedroom is promising.


End file.
